


What Friends Do

by Morgondagar



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Friendship, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:47:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23991043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgondagar/pseuds/Morgondagar
Summary: After Jon’s breakup with Georgie, Tim helps him keep his life in check.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	What Friends Do

**Author's Note:**

> This is just me projecting my headcanons into a fic. Just some ideas me and my friend had.

It was a gigantic bloody mess, both figuratively and literally speaking. Jon and Georgie had broken up, the details lost between the third and fourth shot Tim had decided would be a good remedy for the man, and his friend was more or less a literal wreck.

Tim hadn’t known the man too well before the two started dating, to a point were he was pretty sure they had been together before he met Jon but apparently he had been wrong. All he knew was that the man was not the best at keeping things in order, to put it lightly. His wardrobe had always been a disaster, moving boxes left unpacked even a year after he had apparently moved in, his hair messy and his sleep schedule even worse. The breakup had not bettered anything. 

It was with open arms that Tim had welcomed his friend to stay at his apartment until he found his own, his belongings stowed away for the time being in Tim’s basement and the couch nicely made with a sheet, pillows and enough blankets for the night. Jon was grateful, sporting an unusual smile as the two packed his things away. But Tim truly had underestimated his abilities to keep any sort of track over Jon’s life. 

The living room, where the man resided for the time being, was a literal dump, his clothes in piles over the furniture and the floor littered with books, papers and dishes. Tim had grown accustomed to leaving his room in his underwear, his bare feet padding along the cold floor as he switched the light off above the man to order him to go to sleep, that he had no reason to be awake at four am on a Wednesday. Not to mention the numerous times he had lifted the shorter man up, flung him across his shoulder and forced him into the shower like an unruly dog. How Georgie managed this, was beyond his comprehension.

Tim was meticulous in his cleaning, loving the way his bed was neatly made every morning and how he could theoretically eat food directly from his kitchen floor if he so pleased. The shift was almost too much, but Jon needed someone, that someone being Tim. And Tim was nothing but stubborn. 

It came as a secret relief when his friend announced he had found his own place, a small flat relatively close with a decent rent and a calm neighbourhood. Tim happily helped the man move his things, then spending the next weekend attempting to restore his living room to it’s former glory. The curious stain on his carpet wouldn’t leave, but it was something he could live with.

And so Tim was back to mostly only ever meeting Jon at work, sometimes going out for a few drinks with their coworkers and the occasional lunch at the close by diner. Jon seemed to be doing much better by now, which pleased him greatly. 

The work at the institute was dull and, well, work. When he was approached by his friend to move down to the archives, it was a change Tim was very willing to make. He switched over quickly, appreciating his new, promoted title as investigator. Having Jon as his boss was still something he had to get accustomed to, but it was fine; Martin and Sasha were far better company than Janet, Gabrielle and Adrian had ever been anyway. 

Jon did not seem to take the switch all too well, though. The bags under his eyes were back after a few months, his hair once again unwashed and wild, and the rate at which him and his coworkers found the man asleep at his desk was worrying Tim gravely. So he decided an intervention was well placed. 

“Hey Boss, how about some fast food at yours?” Tim was leaning against the doorframe, his coat wrapped snuggly around his body while he stared the man down. Jon jerked as he heard his voice, eyes darting around the room before landing on Tim. 

“Oh. Uh... sure. Right, sure.” He fumbled around on his desk, statements taking most of the room in varying stages of recording. With a sigh and a worrying crack along the shorter man’s spine, Jon stretched out before grabbing his own coat, giving Tim a weak smile as he motioned for the other to go first. 

It took about ten minutes on the tube to get to Jon’s apartment complex, the two stopping by at the nearby pizzeria for their orders before making their way up the gangly stairs. The lock clicked and Jon opened his door, Tim dreading the sight before he even got the chance to see it. 

Not all too surprising, there were still several boxes left to be unpacked by the door, some of them opened and hastily packed back down again over time as Jon had needed something specific. The small hallway had a grand total of four plastic bags filled to the brim with trash that hadn’t made their way down to the garbage room, most of them containing what looked like empty takeaway and napkins. 

The kitchen was as to be expected, as to say in total disarray. Dishes were piled up high, the balancing act quite impressive in Tim’s opinion; His fridge was close to empty, sporting only a few condiments and a half-empty bottle of iced tea. Jon spent a few minutes piling newspapers and various books into a corner on his table to make place for the two, Tim feeling lucky he had picked up some plastic utensils at the restaurant when he saw the empty drawer. 

“It’s not... much,” Jon mumbled, his eyes set on the food as he spoke. “I tried to keep it tidy for a while, but I guess old habits die hard.”

Tim shrugged it off, his mouth stuffed with the greasy pizza. He hadn’t expected much more, if we were to be honest. 

“I can help you tidy up, Boss.” Tim searched for his gaze, catching it for a few fleeting seconds. He quickly dispelled any argument he got from the other, leaning back in the old, creaking chair as he folded his arms over his chest. 

“Look, I know you don’t want any pity, but this is downright miserable, Jon; When is this even from? _26th March, 2012._ When would you ever need that?!” Tim held up one of the newspapers he had snatched from the floor, most of the front page covered in what he hoped was lasagna and some of the pages ripped out. He shook his head, sighing loudly. “I will not leave this place until I can walk over the floor without having to look exactly where I place my feet; Luckily for you I am good at cleaning.”

Jon shifted in his seat, eyes once again wandering anxiously around the small kitchen. It lingered for a moment on the piled dishes, then returned to it’s course. In the end, he agreed to Tim’s help, the two of them slowly but surely making the kitchen into a more habitable space. 

The hour was late when Tim put down the sponge, his fingers pruned from the dingy water but all plates, mugs and utensils neatly tucked away into their own, natural places. Jon looked beyond tired when he put down the towel, hanging it neatly on it’s hook after Tim had thrown him a dirty glare for discarding it in a heap on the newly cleaned table. 

“You need to sleep, sir.” Tim ordered, his voice firm and unamused. He rolled his eyes at the complaints, shoving his friend out of the kitchen towards the small bathroom next door. “Get yourself washed up, I will raid your room for some sheets to make the couch in the meantime.”

He heard the tap turn on a moment later, proudly venturing further into the apartment to find himself a reasonable bedding for the night. Tim had to crack open one of the moving boxes to get what he needed, carefully placing what he took out back into the cardboard box before making the couch. Jon entered the small living room by the time Tim had gotten it all sorted, his lithe frame more or less drowning in the old shirt he was wearing. 

“If you want to, you could take the bed,” he offered, shifting wis weight from one foot to the other anxiously as he looked at everything but Tim. He suspected Jon has spent several minutes in the bathroom coming up with the offer, going over all possible answers he would reasonably have to face. It hit Tim square in the face how absolutely tiny his friend looked at the moment, the shirt collar dropping down his right shoulder as the hem reached down to his thighs; his hands kneading one another in an anxious display as he swayed from one side to the other. At least his hair was tied back and ready for sleep and he smelled pleasantly like toothpaste rather than greasy pizza.

“Nah, you need the sleep more than I do. Also, I’m pretty sure there are cockroaches in your room that I would prefer not sharing the bed with tonight.” Tim let out a chuckle, motioning towards the couch he was seated on. “I’ll do just great here, Boss.”

Without much further arguments, Jon retreated to his bedroom, his door closing behind him as Tim let out a huff, making his way to the bathroom before turning himself in for the night. 

The rest of the weekend was spent in a similar fashion, Tim and Jon slowly working their way through the small apartment as it turned from a garbage dump into something one would call a home. There were no cockroaches in the bedroom, but by the time they were ready to tackle the mess in there Tim hadn’t been too sure. His stay at Jon’s was longer than anticipated, Tim offering to make a home-cooked meal for the two by the end of Sunday as a celebration. 

“You really don’t have to,” Jon mumbled, already sighing in retreat as the other hoisted up the groceries on the counter. 

“Oh, I know. I will do it anyway.”

And Tim was a good cook, thank you. The two shared the meal in mostly silence before Tim announced his leave, thanking Jon for a good weekend. His friend mumbled his own thanks as he followed him to the door, giving Tim a weak smile as he handed him his coat. 

“See you tomorrow, Boss!” Tim smiled as he left the building, walking the few blocks between their apartments. 

By the next day, Jon looked healthier already. A good night’s sleep and a lunchbox packed in his bag seemed to have done him good. But a few weeks later, Tim saw the old habits creeping back, staying over an hour for Jon to finish up his statement before knocking on the door as he entered. 

“Takeaway?” Tim gave him a smirk, watching the other pack his bag to leave for the day. Jon agreed, the two of them commuting in silence before entering his apartment once more. 

The mess was back, though far more manageable than it had been before his intervention. Another load of trash bags were left by the door, but this time no moving boxes to trip over. His coatrack was still organised and only a few pairs of shoes were not put back in their place. The sink had only a couple of plates in it, mugs of half-drunk tea scattered around the apartment to be found during the evening. All in all, it was okay, and Tim helped him get it back to it’s full glory.

The ordeal turned into a habit on it’s own. Every few weeks he would see Jon in various states of disarray and Tim would come up with a reason to join him. The cleaning wasn’t too bad, all of it done by the end of the evening as the two fell asleep in a tidy home. Jon just needed some maintenance and Tim was more than willing to help him.

“I really appreciate the work you put in, Tim,” Jon said one evening, the two leaning against one another on the old couch while watching an ancient documentary Jon strongly recommended. Tim had tuned out the noise after roughly twenty minutes, instead focusing on his phone as he tried to beat a few levels on Candy Crush. “But I promise it’s not necessary. You are free to spend your Fridays however you please.”

“I know you do.” Tim internally cheered as the three stars popped up on his screen and tapped out of the game before turning his phone off, putting it back in his lap. “And I do actually quite enjoy this little ritual of ours, you should know. It’s... cathartic.”

“Big words, have you read my dictionaries again?” Tim chuckled and pushed the other on the shoulder, almost sending him off balance down to the floor. After a few moments of scrambling for leverage, Jon sat back up, smiling weakly as he leaned back against Tim’s side.

“Are you sure it’s fine?”

Tim stared at him for a moment, sighing softly before turning himself towards Jon. With the most sincere expression he could summon, he placed a hand on the scrawny shoulder.

“It’s more than fine, Jon. You’re my friend. It’s what friends do.” Tim once again searched for the other’s gaze, Jon back to his anxious shuffling and kneading of his hands. When they locked eyes, Tim made sure to give him a smile, showing off his teeth in a wide grin.

“If you say so,” he mumbled, smiling back.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed it, please leave a comment!


End file.
